


In Which The Master becomes The Mastered.

by AnHonorMoose



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Crack, Light Bondage, M/M, Short, Tricks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 07:19:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3479285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnHonorMoose/pseuds/AnHonorMoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A very quick two AM tale of a less...conventional way to save humanity. For Amy and Katie, Happy Birthdays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which The Master becomes The Mastered.

**Author's Note:**

> My first, bear with it?

The ancient young man's body lay before The Master, toned and creamy flesh so shamelessly exposed. Although friends for many years (and enemies for many, many more) the two Galifrayans had never seen each other quite like this before. 

"What are you waiting for" smirked The Doctor, his dark oaken eyes lit up with mischief; a promise of trouble.

"This doesn't change anything" the blonde replied. His whole being was meticulously controlled although it was clear the man felt uncomfortable following the others suggestions. He had never let people tell him what to do. "I'll still kill them all, your precious little humans."   
"Oh, of course, and being as that's the case then there's book point in trying to prevent it. What will be will be and so forth... so why not have some fun while we wait?"

Uncharecteristically The Master could form no cunning retort to the time lord; so he took off his clothes.

During the forthcoming night many things went through The Master's head. Nearly a thousand years had given the men a lot of experience. He felt the blissful ecstasy when their bodies entwined and experienced calmer, more passionate moments when the Master forgot his jealously and the malicious revenge he planned to bring the perfect man in his arms, his bed, to the level of suffering he himself had been brought to after their last encounter.

Slowly he found himself succumbing to the Doctors very command. The Doctor would mold him like clay; he was putty in his manly, hairy hands. The man would tell him where to go "Allons-y" and he would go.

As he eventually slipped into unconsciousness, smothered by soft peach lips, the last thing he saw was the same mischiefous twinkle as seen in their earlier conversation. The Master slept.

A sliver of impertinent sunlight hit his face and woke The Master up. His pale eyelashes fluttered gold over squinting eyes. A hand moved to block the rude electromagnetic alarm, but only got a few centimeters before being abruptly halted ny a short chain which attached his wrist to the bedpost. Frantically, he looked at his other limbs and around the room for some way to escape his bonds.

"Oh dear" a sarcastic voiced announced. "Other seems you might be a bit...preoccupied. Perhaps the mass genocide of the human race wait." 

With that The Doctor left his once friend, once lover, strapped to the bed without so much as a glance except to throw his jacket over the man, so that he wasn't left completely naked.


End file.
